Look at the strange journey of the mind
Dream of love for the body
That brought me here
Now that I look for traces of my days
In daily movements
I run forward towards those who
The secret of the heart speaks
The movement of the sun
It often helps you die
It transforms the hours into screams
The desire that opens
/>Lights of inner life
I am not Gilgamesh, nor even Ulysses, not from the East where time is? the dust mine, nor from the West where the time is? rusty iron, but where am I going and what will I do? if I said: “poetry? my country and love? my path”